


Home Where It's Warm

by OnlySlightlyObsessed1



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, as are David and Saavik and several ocs to flesh out mccoy's family, blink and you'll miss it implication they have sex, fairytale AU, the bridge crew and chapel are mentioned, various side pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 00:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySlightlyObsessed1/pseuds/OnlySlightlyObsessed1
Summary: Children were not supposed to go into the woods alone, especially not at dusk.“The fae will get you,” Jim’s older brother Sam told them seriously, “like they got Miss ‘Manda.”Jim laughed, “No faerie took her! Mommy says she went with a man.”“A faerie could look like a man,” Leo chimed in, and their argument ended when Jim’s mother called them in for dinner.





	Home Where It's Warm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I spent almost 14k words calling McCoy Leo. I won't do it again. This could probably use another read through/edit but I can't bear to look at it any longer.

Children were not supposed to go into the woods alone, especially not at dusk. 

“The fae will get you,” Jim’s older brother Sam told them seriously, “like they got Miss ‘Manda.”

Jim laughed, “No faerie took her! Mommy says she went with a man.”

“A faerie could look like a man,” Leo chimed in, and their argument ended when Jim’s mother called them in for dinner. 

 

Jim and Leo were neither particularly fearful nor exceedingly well behaved children. Leo followed Jim into the woods just as the sun was setting behind the hills, the sky was golden, fading back to blue, and the trees shadows were no longer distinguishable in the low light. They were quiet and Leo kept behind Jim. He was a year older, he should know better than to go into the forest when their parents didn’t know, but Jim wasn’t afraid, he didn’t believe the stories.

They got lost, and that’s when they saw the boy. He was sitting so still and quiet that he was almost invisible in his dark clothes in the shadow of the tree.

“Look!” Leo whispered, holding tight to Jim’s arm and pointing.

The boy looked up at them then. He held his hands cupped in his lap, and they watched him as he raised them and revealed a dark shape. Abruptly, the shape in his hands resolved itself into a bird and flew into the tree tops. It made no sound but the movement startled Jim, who darted to hide behind Leo.

“Are you lost?” Jim asked, peaking his head around behind Leo’s back. The boy didn’t reply, but watched them curiously and tilted his head. Leo caught sight of a pointed ear under his neat bowl cut. He gasped and pushed Jim backwards slightly; the boy was a faerie. He wanted to run, to get back out of the woods to the house where he could shut the door and ask his mother for tea while she read to him by the fire, but he did not know the way, and he knew better than to turn his back.

The boy, the faerie, spoke in a language Leo didn’t know, and behind him, Jim began to cry quietly. He wondered if Jim would believe the stories now, maybe he would be more cautious. 

“We’re sorry to have disturbed you, mister.” Leo said. The boy didn’t look much older than they were, but it paid to be polite to faeries, you never knew. “We’ve got to get back home, so we’ll be leaving now. Good evening.”

The boy didn’t answer, but neither did he react when Leo started backing up. He tried to remember what his mother told him. 

“The fae don’t wave,” She’d said, but what did they do?

“Jim,” He whispered, “how do you say goodbye to a faerie?”

He wasn’t sure if Jim would know. He was still sniffling behind Leo, clutching Leo’s tunic. But Jim stopped moving and held Leo’s hand, separating his fingers and holding is palm facing the boy. He let go and made the same gesture. Slowly, the boy raised his own hand in the same manner, and after holding it for a moment, put his hand back down and looked away from them, picking something from the carpet of moss he sat on and examining it casually. Leo took it as a sign he could leave properly, and he dragged Jim away at a run. His feet seemed to know the way home even when he didn’t recognize the trees around him.

 

His sister Delilah grumbled as they walked through the sparse outer trees towards the wood. It was afternoon, but the sun was mostly hidden by clouds and the wind was bitter cold. He wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck and hurried to catch up with her. 

“Lenny,” She said exasperated, “they’re just trees. Go check by where the big tree fell, see if there’s any dry wood over there. Caroline and I are going to find a tree to cut.”

He couldn’t argue with her, but he didn’t want to go out alone. She hadn’t seen the boy with the pointed ears who sat so still. He went anyways, turning right deeper into the woods. The snow was lighter under the denser cover of the trees, but it was there still, especially in midwinter. The big tree had many broken branches, and if they weren’t covered in ice or snow, they made good kindling. Their supply at home was low, but he thought with the whole village taking trips to the tree to save the time splitting wood, there wouldn’t be much left. He kept going anyways, it was a decent place to start looking. He knew the route by heart as he knew all outer ring by their house. 

He did not reach the big tree. He stopped, confused and looked around. The trees were all wrong, and there was no snow on the ground, or even on the upper tree branches. He was sweating in his coat, and there was late afternoon sunlight dappling the forest floor. His heart beat fast in his throat. There was a slight noise and he jumped, turning to see what it was. 

The boy stood to his left, watching him. 

“Are you lost?” he asked, and Leo thought there might be a hint of smile on his lips. The boy was wearing similar looking dark clothing, loose black fabric draped over his arms, and something like a robe went down to his mid shins, where Leo could see he was wearing soft leather boots and tights.

“Yes.” Leo said simply, for he could not see how that question might be a trap, and he was indeed, not where he had expected to find himself. 

The boy took several steps toward Leo, and he tried to steady his breathing. He did not want the boy to know he was scared. 

“I was going to the big tree that fell,” he continued, “to get some kindling.” He could see the boy’s face clearer now that the light was better and he was closer. He was beautiful, but his eyebrows were too slanted, and his skin didn’t look pink or brown like most people Leo knew.

“Did you come from the village?” The boy asked, and that question was surely a trap, so Leo said again,

“I’m going to the big tree. I have to bring kindling back and meet my sister.”

The boy nodded, his expression somehow more blank and emotionless than it had been before.

“You would not want her to worry.” He said, and lifted his hand in the gesture they’d exchanged before, “Goodbye.” Then he left, disappearing into the trees as if he had never been there in the first place.

Leo blinked, and found himself several yards past the big tree, with the cold wing blowing through his open scarf and snow under his boots.

 

Jim ran past him laughing.

“Doctor! We have to swim to catch up with the ship! C’mon!”

Leo liked to play seamen with Jim, but he thought they really should play by the river, where they could float paper boats and actually swim around, but Jim wasn’t allowed that far from home, and Leo wasn’t either, not if Delilah or Caroline wasn’t there to watch him. 

He chased Jim through the trees, too much in character to laugh, “Captain! If we don’t catch up to the ship it’ll leave us behind!”

But then Jim tripped over a root and Leo realized he didn’t know where they were. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure. Jim saw him too.

“Do you want to play with us?” Jim asked the boy. He stood just in the shadow of the trees at the edge of a small clearing Leo didn’t recognize. Jim sat on the ground still, not a tree root in sight. “We’re seamen. I’m the Captain and he’s the Doctor, you can be my first mate!”

The boy stepped out of the trees and stood in the full light of the clearing. He seemed shy, but Leo thought that would be silly, a faerie couldn’t be shy. Glancing between the two of them, the boy nodded. Jim grinned at him and then clutched his leg in pretend agony. The boy hurried over.

“Captain, are you injured?”

“A shark bit me!” Jim exclaimed, “My foot, a shark bit my foot, ow ow ow!”

“Go get some bandages, we have to stop the bleeding!” Leo said urgently to the boy. It was exciting to have someone new to play with. He kept talking to Jim, thinking of things a doctor might say, and the boy came back with several large leaves. They were crinkly and soft and they made perfect make-believe bandages. 

 

They were in the middle of a battle with pirates when the boy suddenly sat up from where Leo was patching up a bullet hole.

“It grows late,” he said, looking at the sky, “I must return home.”

Leo and Jim looked up too and saw the faintest pink above the trees. It was sunset, and surely their parents would become worried. When Leo looked down again, the boy was gone and the leaves were being blown away by the wind. 

 

Jocelyn didn’t want to dance. She looked at him, vain and amused, and told him if he really wanted to dance with girls he’d change his clothes. Her friends laughed and he looked down and thought it wouldn’t be so bad if he actually had nicer clothes. Jim wasn’t nearby, and thirteen was much too old to be crying, but he couldn’t keep his cheeks dry as he wandered into the woods away from the music and people laughing in the square. 

Someone sat down next to him, and he looked up, expecting to see Jim, but it was the boy. He startled backwards.

“I haven’t seen you in a couple years.” Leo remarked, voice thick with tears, embarrassing him.

The boy tilted his head at him. He looked older, Leo supposed he did too. His expression, blank and unreadable, remained the same. 

“My mother told me not to frighten you.” He said. “You are in distress.” His comment caught Leo so off guard he barely heard the second part. 

“You have a mother?” He asked, he had not thought to be scared of the boy in many years.

“Everyone has a mother.” The boy replied, and there was the briefest flash of something like confusion on his face. “Why do you cry?” 

Leo blinked and more tears fell to run down his cheeks, in shame. The boy reached out to him and carefully wiped his cheeks dry. Leo shivered and wondered what a faerie could do with his tears. 

“The others have much more money than we do, and nicer clothes. But there’s too many of us for me to have so many outfits, and too much work to do to keep anything nice.” He said. It was true. Even Jim’s family, though they had little more money, kept a cleaner house and neater clothes. But the McCoy’s were a large family, on a large plot of land. Peter lived in the little house in the back and helped their father with the horses. Delilah lived in town with her brand new husband. The rest of them, Caroline and Leo and Mathew and Abbey, and the little ones, Henry and Jane, lived in the house with mother and father and helped on the farm. But Jim only had the one brother, and therefor six fewer mouths to feed.

They go and dance in their new clothes for summer, but so long as mine don’t have rips and don’t get too tight I keep ‘em. Jocelyn’s very pretty, and she doesn’t want to dance with me.”

“A tremendous gift, you have given me this night.” The boy whispered in response. “The others in my home do not speak with me as friends. I am too close to my human mother, I stay out in the human trees too long.” 

Leo chanced a look at the boy then, and saw there were tears on his cheeks too. It was right, to wipe them away as the boy had done for him. As he finished, the boy stared at him with his eyes bright and shiny with unshed tears.

Leo said, “Well we were friends as boys, and you found me here when I needed someone to talk to.”

“Indeed.” Said the boy, then, “You have given me much. I will dance with you.”

Leo found himself pulled up by the hand and then they were twirling and stepping in a complex pattern to no music that Leo could hear.

“I don’t know this dance,” He said.

“I will teach you.” The boy replied.

“There’s no music,” He protested again.

“You are not listening.” The boy countered, and when Leo listened harder, he could hear the wind in the branches and the bird song, and in harmony with it, the sound of instruments, though he could not tell what kind. He focused on the boy’s hands guiding him and the pattern he followed with his feet. 

He did not know how long had passed when the boy’s dancing slowed and Leo too was allowed rest. Leo had to stand against a tree, suddenly dizzy and out of breath. 

The boy stood close to him and raised his hand as he did in farewell.

“I hope to see you again, Doctor.”

And he was gone.

 

Jim’s wedding was a hastily organized affair, only a week in the planning. The town pulled together and streamers were hung and the food prepared and the music organized. Carol’s dress was well sewn, and the rushed nature of things was not noticed or given any weight on the night of the festivities. The party continued well into the evening and late in the night, long after the bride and groom had retired to Jim’s house. As the hour drew late Leo found himself sat outside the circle of lights and music. The beer in his cup turning flat as he watched the people dancing. He had been away in the city too long.

 

His thoughts turned to his friend, in bed, perhaps asleep by now, curled around his wife, the child that was near to showing on her stomach. Jim would make a good father. In a moment of sincerity Jim had confessed his terror. Three lives, then, his own, his wife’s, and their unborn child’s rested on his shoulders. Leo hoped by the time the child was born he would be back in town more permanently. Perhaps he would be permitted to assist with the delivery if he could convince Christine he wouldn’t interfere. His studies were progressing quickly, if several years could really be considered quick. 

 

Homecoming was more somber than he hoped. His father’s passing threw walls up around his family. His mother did not leave the house, and a grief-stricken Peter struggled with the burdens of head of household. Leo, with all his medical knowledge from the wonderful and futuristic minds in the city, felt betrayed. What use was a practice such as his if it could fail to save his father? It seemed impossible, unfair that life should go on, but go on it did. 

Leo watched Jim’s son David learn to crawl, and watched Jim fall more in love with the child by the minute. Carol worked on building their dairy farm and creamery, Jim and Scotty helped raise the barn and buildings. The whole town watched Nyota and Scotty’s painfully slow courting finally take flight. 

Peter gave Leo a quarter acre at the corner of the farm as he reorganized the rest, and so his practice had a base. Caroline got engaged to the postman the next town over, and there was more months of wedding planning and begging Peter to step in for their father. 

His days were filled with many petty complaints he could do little for, which, despite the annoyance, he was thankful for. His mother’s eyesight was worsening, but it was a minor complaint and her only one, for which he breathed a sigh of relief. Hikaru, the blacksmith, had finally broken his impressive streak of most consecutive weeks without a burn. Leo kept a close eye on it, and it did not become infected. Delilah’s daughter had a cough that came and went, but he could never find sign of infection. It worsened in the cold, and when she ran or laughed, and in jest Leo told Delilah that perhaps she was destined for the convent. For treatment he could only prescribe warmth and to prevent too much stress and exertion. 

Caroline’s wedding went without a hitch, though he had to set a young stable hand’s ankle the same evening. Nyota and Scotty’s several weeks later saw nearly the entire town in appearance. 

Leo took many walks in the wood.

 

He was surprised when on one of his walks the boy appeared. Although for his looks and the years he was no more a boy than Leo was. 

“You are a Doctor in truth now.” He said with no preamble.

“I suppose so.” Leo replied. He studied the man in silence. His attire had changed little. Dark loose robes and tights with laced up boots. He wore the same hair style, each strand ever perfectly in place. The man appeared to study him in turn.

“I have paid attention to you, and your friend the Captain. I am pleased you are well.” He said.

For the first time since they had played together as children, Leo found himself afraid.

“Why? Don’t you have better things to do? Do faeries have jobs?” He asked. It was impudent, he supposed, but for all his wariness he could not be deferential to the man who was the same boy who had so enthusiastically fought pirates and built forts with him in their youth. 

“We do.” He said simply. “I am one who seeks knowledge.”

“You’re an academic, a philosopher. A rich man who writes all day?” Leo asked, and his further brashness was rewarded with an indulgent raised eyebrow. 

“Surely not. What knowledge could be gained from writing on paper? Writing and reading are merely a chance to share what I learn with others. No, Doctor, I am a traveler, I seek places and people and things, experiences and novelty.”

“What knowledge have you found?” Leo said in challenge, and that granted him the most expression he had ever witnessed on the man’s face. Widened eyes and yet another raised eyebrow.

“I have learned that the universe is a vast place, full of varied peoples. I have seen many wonderous things.” The man said. “And now I have returned home for a time, and observed you.”

“Where will your travels take you next?”

“I must attend to a family matter first. Then I will decide.”

“It’s strange to think of you people as having families.” Leo said honestly, and chanced to hope that the faerie would not be offended.

“Why should we not?” And it seemed like an honest question, but Leo didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know. Why did you come talk to me tonight?” He asked.

The man was quiet for a long moment.

“Our interactions must seem quite strange by your standards. I consider you a friend, Doctor, and your Captain too. Though perhaps I have been too subtle.” The man said finally, and began walking slowly along the path Leo had been following.

“A friend.” He repeated. It had to be the strangest feeling, walking alongside a faerie, apparently having a catch-up conversation with an old friend, if the man was to be believed. “Have you spoken to J—” he caught himself, “the Captain lately?”

“No.” The man said. “As I said, perhaps I have been too subtle. If you have not perceived my presence when we do not speak directly, it is highly unlikely the Captain is aware of my regard.” He sighed then, and Leo wondered if he wasn’t really going mad, for faeries didn’t sigh, or ruminate, or whatever the man was doing now.

“I do believe you would notice were I to lapse in my protection. It is like that with humans. You are not particularly perceptive of perpetual states, only change. I am hardly the only fae in these parts.” 

“You’ve been protecting us?” Leo had to ask. “Why? From what?”

“Why? Did I not state previously that I consider you to be my friends? As to your second question, there are many who would be curious as to you and yours. For a race who walk in obliviousness, you and your Captain see more than most. I am concerned that you do not take your own precautions. I would advise it. Convey this information to your Captain as well. I will be gone for a time.” He said.

“I thought you had been gone before?”

“You speak of distance, I speak of realms. In my travels I never stray far from the border of ours, it is as I said, my home. But I must now resolve a conflict for myself with one much further inward. I can hardly keep watch over you then.”

Leo tried desperately to reconcile this with his daily monotony, and utterly failed. “You talk as if we are the closest of friends, and I’ve never even got your name.”

The man’s blank expression had returned, “You are rash in your phrasing. I do not think I will ever give you my name, though someday, you may learn it. Tell the Captian to stay safe, Doctor.” He said, and a moment later he stepped off the path and vanished entirely.

Leo stood staring after him, peering through the darkness between the trees and wishing he had gotten a chance to ask what precautions he was supposed to take. 

 

The next day he went about setting ever favor and protection he could think of, and a few that his mother suggested. He kept iron in his pocket and left milk by the hearth, on the table he set out two pressed flowers and a note of introduction. In the garden he left sugar and honey and herbs. Two days later he could have sworn a he saw a brownie out of the corner of his eye, sweeping by the door. That day he went to Jim’s.

“You should make nice with the fae.” Leo told him as he helped him dig out the cow barn. David sat in a swing hanging from the rafters just outside, happily chatting nonsense to the cat who was curling around his legs.

“I don’t want any talk of the fae in my house Leo, I leave well enough alone, they leave well enough alone.” Jim said firmly, and rested a moment on his pitch fork. “What are you bringing this up for anyways?”

“They’re not leaving well enough alone, we’ve had a friend, and he told me to take care because he’s going to be away.” Leo said, taking Jim’s queue to break as well.

“Are you feeling alright Doctor? When have you been talking to a faerie? Everyone knows they only talk to children.” Jim said, honestly seeming concerned. 

Leo suppressed the urge to sigh. 

“Don’t you remember our friend in the woods? We used to play pirates.”

“We were children then weren’t we? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since we stopped those games, are you telling me you’ve been talking to him?” Jim asked.

“I see him every once and a while. He warned me to take precautions, not that I know what kind. Are you foolish enough to ignore a warning from a faerie?” Leo shot back.

Jim did sigh, taking his pitch fork up again. “You were always a superstitious sort, then you went and became a Doctor. I’ll never understand it. If it will make you feel better I’ll dry some flowers tonight and leave them out. I’ve never had any quarrel with the faerie folk I won’t begrudge them a gift now and then.”

Relieved, Leo joined in, filling his wheelbarrow in time. Jim kept up the small talk.

“Carol’s putting in gardens in the sills, she’s roped Scotty into measuring them for her. She wants them on the milk barn too, I think the cows will eat them if we let it get that close. We’ve got the vegetables on the side next to the house where we get all the nice sun, but it would be nice to keep some herbs on hand fresh, we wouldn’t have to buy so many. Did you know Nyota’s expecting?”

Leo chuckled slightly. “Jim, who do you think gave her the examination?”

“I suppose you would be first to hear about these things. Carol and I are talking about another. When are you going to catch up? You haven’t even so much as danced since you’ve been back.” Jim grinned at him, “You’ve got to get lonely in your little house there, just you and the faeries.”

“Oh Jim knock it off. I’m not ready for all that! I just got settled into my practice barely a month ago after moving back and my dad and getting the house built.”

“Then the brownie moved in and you’re all set for company! What a misanthrope you are.” Jim was teasing him and Leo found he didn’t mind so much.

 

The pounding woke him. It was far too early, he hadn’t risen this early by custom since he’d helped his parents with the milk goats. He could hear the call through the door and in a moment he was wide awake and up from bed. 

“Leo! Doctor! Are you asleep still? Bones?” it was Jim’s voice through the door as Leo pulled on warm pants and a sweater to confront the early morning chill. He hurried with grabbing his medical bag, Jim was like family.

“What’s happened?” He asked frantically as he pulled open the door for Jim. He set about pulling on his boots as Jim explained.

“You’d better come quick, I think you were right. We didn’t dare touch it, they must have taken David!” Jim said, and seeing that Leo had his boots on, took off at a dead run for his cottage. Leo followed, carrying his medical bag awkwardly as he wrapped a scarf around his ears.

“Who’s taken David? Jim what’s happened?” He tried to call, but Jim was too far ahead, and he supposed he’d see for himself soon enough. Worry twisted in his stomach as he clutched his bag to his chest and increased his pace down the road after Jim.

Breathing hard, they arrived at Jim’s. Carol met them at the door, murmuring tearfully.

“He’s just in there, oh I know it’s not David, I just don’t understand.” He nodded acknowledgement as she kept talking, whispering as they ushered him to the crib. He looked inside. A child looked up at him, ears peaked, eyebrows slanted, skin just too yellow-y green to be human. Carol and Jim were quiet beside him. Their friend had been right, or he was the cause of it all to begin with, but Leo didn’t want to think that. 

The changeling starred up at him, expressionless and silent. 

 

Leo went to the woods that night, alone, without even the iron he carried the last few days, but the faerie man who claimed to be their friend did not come. The child the next day was listless and dull eyed. Carol tried feeding it all manner of things, and Jim tried bathing it and singing to it, but it persisted. The town whispered. 

Carol cried, “We’ll take care of the thing if it kills us but why would they take David? What would they want with David?”

Leo stared at the child. He thought of the fae he met in the woods so many times past speaking of his family. What would a fae mother do swapping out her own child? He was sure there was something he was missing. The man had warned them, had protected them from this, was there no way to see David returned to them? He checked the child over, it was too cold for a human, it’s heart too fast, it’s breathing too shallow. He thought of their childhood, playing with the boy, as he was then. He had been lonely, he had told him, the night they cried together. Lonely as Leo was now, he realized.

He picked the child up, startling Jim and Carol who were slumped at the table, putting off milking the cows for a while, despairing their son lost. The changeling’s eyes were dark, it’s face serene and devoid of expression as it had been, but in Leo’s arms it stirred as it hadn’t in the past many hours. It was truly a perfect child, far too perfect to be human. There was no scar on this child’s face as there was on David’s. The right cheek, a small white line where he had fallen amid the steps and cut himself on a rock. There was no imperceptible fold in this child’s ear, though its ears swept up into points, they were perfect, flawless. 

He bounced it, staring at its eyes, and thought of his house, cold and cavernous despite it’s small size, and his friends, their houses busy and full, even at night time they slept with someone beside them in a bed warmed by shared body heat. In the morning they shared tea, and the chores of the day split between two. Children’s laughter spilled from nearly every house but his own. Those who’s homes were quiet would not be so for long, or had many years of laughter stored in their walls from children long grown. His walls were new, there was no life and history with in them. The solemn child stared back and raised a hand to his face, the other clutching his finger. He realized suddenly that he was crying. Tears fell thick and fast though no sobs wracked his body. The child drew its fingers through his tears as if fascinated and he remembered the man, boy at the time, wiping Leo’s tears so gently, and allowing Leo to dry his own. 

The child’s other hand came to his cheek as well and Leo laughed.

“Have you seen tears before little one?” He asked it, and it laughed too, clear and joyful as bells, filling the house. 

 

The next morning, he woke to Jim pounding on his door once again. David sat healthy and happy in his crib, the changeling nowhere in sight. At Jim and Carol’s insistence he checked the boy over head to toe and found not a single scratch. The scar on his cheek remained, and the barely noticeable fold in his ear. The only oddity any of them could see was the fine golden dust that covered him like sand.

The madwoman who slept in the fields swore on her life she saw Miss ‘Manda, the young woman taken by the faeries before Leo was born, just as young and beautiful as ever, steal into the house with David and emerge with another child held to her hip. The others dismissed it, for everyone knew that no one came back from the land of the fae, and certainly a fae could exchange the child in secret without need for actually walking through the town in the middle of the night. 

That evening Leo told Jim about the night the faerie and he cried together, and what he had said about a human mother. He went to the field that night and offered the madwoman a night by his fireside. She refused, citing the wind and the stars. He brought her warmed spiced cider instead and sat with her in silence a while. He was glad of company that felt no need for talk.

 

He began to find gifts, tucked between his pillows, hidden among the dishes, slipped under the door. They were fae things at first, and he thought them from the brownie, for he had continued to leave milk, but they grew in number and specificity and he began to question them. The four soft pink quartz stones he left in a row on the mantle. The fresh flowers he baked into cookies and shared with whatever faeries lived in and around his house. The soft golden dust he swept up and kept in a small jar. The astonishingly detailed charcoal drawing of his face he kept in his notebook and showed to Jim. 

“It’s a beautiful likeness, whoever drew it?” Jim asked. 

“I don’t know,” Leo had to admit, “maybe it’s the faerie man.”

The droplets of water on his counter dried before he could think of a way to preserve them. The shiny black leather case on his kitchen table was plenty proof enough. He brought his tea with him into the foggy morning, dawn just barely breaking over the trees. He was not fully dressed, he had his warm overcoat on top of his favorite flannel pajamas and his woolen pants on top of his stockings. His hat he had pulled low over his ears but the gloves he had left in favor of a good grip on his tea. He walked through the sparse trees at the edge of the forest and found himself a log to sit. He did not have to wait long.

“Good morning Doctor,” came the familiar voice. The faerie stood behind him, wrapped in his ever-present dark robes. For all it wasn’t too cold a morning he seemed under dressed. He took a seat on the log next to Leo.

“You’ve been leaving me gifts, I know it’s you. No one else would have known I was going to buy a new medical bag.” Leo said. He meant it to sound accusatory, but it came out as simply fond. 

“How would I have known that you intended to purchase a new bag?” The man asked, the innocence in his tone obviously feigned. 

“How do you know to do anything?” Leo asked rhetorically, though he had to wave a hand to forestall the man’s answer. They sat in companionable silence as Leo sipped his tea. “Did you know the Captain’s son was exchanged, and then changed back?” He was desperately curious and desperate for some confirmation that it was not the fae man’s doing. For all it seemed a harmless adventure for David, he had no desire to lose his godson, nor to see Jim in such distress.

“I did.” Was all the man said.

Heart sinking Leo asked, “Was it you?”

“I had some small part in the return of the boy child, but none in the taking. I must confess.” The man said, and though he could have been lying, Leo felt his chest unconstrict in relief. 

“That was a stressful moment there. I did warn him to take precautions. He’s been much more careful now.” Said Leo.

“I believe the children would have been returned to their homes in time regardless of my intervention,” the man said quietly, “you must understandably read malice in such an act, but I assure you there was none. Humans are wonderous creatures, and your capacity for healing is matched not in anyone I’ve encountered.”

Leo did not pursue the topic, too afraid of the answer to ask if the man meant humans in general or specifically Leo, too intimidated by the implications to ask if the fae child had been sick and exchanged to be healed. 

He saw the man’s ears tinged far more yellow-green than he seemed to be normally, and he remembered how warm it seemed to be when they usually met. He set his tea carefully in his lap and removed his hat, pulling it firmly down over the man’s ears as it had been over his own. He watched as the man touched it once, almost reverently.

“Is your family matter resolved?” He asked, hoping the question would not be too personal.

It appeared not to be for the man answered, “I have severed my tenuous martial ties as I intended. I am now free to do as I wish, beholden to no one.”

It was a slight shock but Leo recovered his wits in time to answer, “Not even to your mother?”

That faint smile played about the man’s lips for a moment, and Leo savored it.

“I believe we are all beholden to our mothers, I doubt even I could extricate myself from that sort of familial obligation.” He stood then, brushing himself off. “I note that you also remain unmarried. It is some strange thing among our people, that humans may make that choice. Though I note it is not so without consequence as many of my peers would believe. Enjoy your tea, Good morning Doctor.” And with that he was gone, stepping forward though the wood and disappearing as shouldn’t be possible as lightly wooded as the forest was in that place. 

Leo sat for a moment, breath caught, heart fluttering like a bird, and questions unasked on the tip of his tongue. 

 

The gifts, such as they were, continued, and Leo continued to share them as he could. Jim went with him to buy a new hat. 

“How did you lose it so you couldn’t get it back?” Jim asked in honest confusion. “If it were dropped or caught somewhere you’d be able to retrieve it, even if it’s ruined. How did you lose it completely, what did you do?”

Finally, in annoyance he grumbled, “I gave it away.”

It didn’t lessen Jim’s curiosity one bit.

“Why would you do that? To whom?” He asked.

Leo walked in petulant silence until Jim’s incessant poking and prodding wore it down, “The faerie we played with, the one who warned us to take precautions.”

Jim actually stopped walking in horror.

“Bones, you didn’t. Oh, you know better than to go giving gifts like that to faeries! Who knows what that means and what he can do now. He told you to take precautions and then David gets taken, how can you be sure you can trust him? What did you give him your hat for anyways, why did he want it?”

They paused to the side of the rode to let a horse and rider pass more easily. 

“I talked to him about that, he didn’t take David, but he did say he helped get him back. And I gave him the hat because he seemed cold and he’s been giving me gifts, I thought I should attempt some reciprocity. He didn’t ask me for anything.” Leo said adamantly.

“Faeries may not lie but they can sure twist the truth, Bones!” Jim was really worried, he could hear it in his voice. “He’s been giving you gifts, and you return the favor, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust him. I appreciate your concern, but I’m a capable adult, Jim.” Leo said with and edge to his voice. Jim dropped it, but they spent the rest of the walk in an uncomfortable silence, and by the time they reached the next town Leo wished he’d gone a bit easier on him. 

 

Jim showed up at his practice, a cut along his left arm, shallow enough, but painful, and filled with dust from when he’d fallen along the wire while fixing on of their fences.

“I’ve gotten one of those gifts you’ve been telling me about,” he said without preamble as Leo pulled tiny rocks from the cut. “A brand-new frying pan on the stove, and a drawing of our house.”

“Maybe he’s trying to be more obvious about his friendship.” Leo offered. “He told me he didn’t think you noticed before.”

“I didn’t,” Jim said, and then winced as Leo poured water on the wound to wash the rest of the dust out.

“You should be more careful, wear long sleeves next time, save me the trouble of removing all those rocks,” Leo admonished, inspecting Jim’s arm for any dirt he had missed.

“I know. Believe it or not I didn’t have coming here with my arm torn up on my schedule for today.” Jim quipped back, and continued, “Well, if a faerie friend means a new frying pan you won’t hear me complaining.” Despite his bravado there was fear in his voice. Fear Leo was familiar with it. Too many dealings with the fae could get you in a world of trouble.

 

He just about jumped out of his skin one morning to find the fae standing in his back garden, still draped in black, and wearing his hat. Leo had never seen him out of the forest, and had quite honestly believed he couldn’t physically leave it.

“I would have you know my name.” The man said. Leo stood in his day clothes still recovering from his fright as the man came closer. “I ask for nothing in return. You may call me Spock.”

The fae, the man, Spock, stood stock still with his hands clasped behind his back and nothing written on his face. Leo thought he knew him better than that, but perhaps it was wishful thinking that read nervousness in the line of Spock’s shoulders, hesitancy in his eyes.

Leo cleared his throat. “Good to meet you Mr. Spock.” And he just caught himself in time to keep himself from reaching a hand out to shake. The man may be extending his trust, but Leo had no intention of assuming anything unproven. The formality felt like a protection. 

“Well met, Doctor.” Spock’s formality matched, and left Leo feeling awkward with a new acquaintance and an old friend standing simultaneously in his garden, and he too afraid to invite either in. 

“I have left my bucket, but I mean to fetch water from the well, a moment if you please.” Leonard said to escape the indecision and ducked back through the doorway to collect himself a minute. 

When he returned with the bucket, Spock was still standing there. 

“I will accompany you to the well if you have no objections,” Spock said, and Leo could think of none, so they walked quietly side by side. 

Nyota was there when they arrived, filling her second bucket. She looked up as they approached, confusion on her face.

“Good morning, Doctor, Sir,” She said politely, and Leo was relived she neatly avoided any names, though Spock’s ears were covered, the green yellow tint of his face and his upswept eyebrows marked him distinctly fae. 

“Good morning.” Leo said simply, and waited politely his turn. Spock nodded to her in greeting, but did not speak.

He knew she was burning with questions for him, but too polite to air them in front of his mysterious fae friend, so she appeared to settle for a subtly shocked expression and incredulous looks. 

“Perhaps,” he said to her as she made to leave, “I will stop by yours for lunch if you’re not busy.”

She heard the promise in his words to explain and gave him a real smile then, “You are always welcome in our house Doctor. Good day,” and with a wave she turned back the way she came, and Leo finished filling his bucket. Spock took it from him without a word and carried it back all the way with far greater ease than seemed reasonable for a man his size. But then, Spock was not truly a man.

 

“Spock,” Leo said when he saw Spock stood in his garden as the day before. “What power do you have over me if I allow you to know my name?”

“Little,” Spock said, inclining his head. “only that I would have the knowledge to share if I were inclined, and that should any fae call your name, you would hear regardless of distance or circumstance. You would not be compelled to go to them by anything outside yourself, though if you so chose your feet would take you there.”

“That seems a rather lot to me.” Leo said. “Does it work both ways? If I call your name, will you know and be able to come to me regardless of distance or circumstance?”

“Yes.” Spock said simply. “You have no obligation to allow me knowledge of your name, but you have my word that should I learn it, I will not abuse it, no share it without your express permission.”

Leo smiled slightly and said, “Your word is only as good as you are, my friend.”

He received only a raised eyebrow and sardonic, “Indeed.” In response. 

They walked again in silence to the well and again Spock carried his full bucket back for him.

“Am I indebting myself to you by letting you carry my water?” Leo asked as they approached his house. Spock was quiet until they reached the back porch again and he set the water down.

“Anything I do of my own free will does not incur a debt from you, Doctor, and you will find I am disinclined to do things by coercion or bribery. Should I take payment for my actions they will be for actions I chose, and I will exact that payment upfront. One never knows who will back out of a bargain at the last moment. I am neither as trusting nor as vindictive as many of my peers. However, should you insist upon viewing my visits as a transaction, consider your company all the payment I desire.” With that, he put his hand up in his custom and left.

 

Each morning Spock stood waiting for him in the garden, and each morning Leo considered Spock’s answer to a question while Spock carried his water for him. The townsfolk had talked at first. Any stranger was excuse enough for talk, but in a remarkably short time they had grown accustomed to him.

“Did you do something?” Leo asked Spock one morning, “No even spares a second glance at you anymore, and not just the people I’ve talked to.”

“It is the way of things, that people should begin to see what they expect to see. It would be a significant inconvenience to stand out so much everywhere we went.” Spock replied, and by “we” Leo had to assume he meant faerie folk.

“Do you know that fae mothers tell their children human stories, as a human mother might tell stories about the fae? We are warned never to step out of a faerie ring, never to accompany a human out of the woods to play, to steer clear of the mortal sunlight least our bodies turn to flesh and trap us.” Leo’s ears might have deceived him, but he thought Spock’s tone carried some amusement. “I never put stock in those stories, for I moved between realms with impunity. Perhaps I was too bold, for each day your realm captures my interest, and each night I am reluctant to return home.”

“What does that make you then, the faerie that runs off with the humans?” Leo asked.

“Would it not be fitting? I am after all, the son of the human that ran off with the faeries.” Spock replied. “Perhaps, should you not be otherwise occupied the next afternoon, you would accompany me to meet my mother.”

“Why?” Leo asked, feeling a little off kilter. 

“I believe you would enjoy each other’s company.” Spock said. 

“I will clear my schedule.” He tried not to show his desperate curiosity. Spock’s mother was the only member of his family or circle of acquaintances he had ever mentioned. 

 

That next afternoon Leo fretted about his clothes, combed his hair twice, and anxiously tied and retied the bow on the package of honeycakes he’d made with Jim and Carol. It wouldn’t have been right to arrive empty handed. He glanced out the window seemingly every other minute, waiting for Spock to arrive, and when he did Leo nearly decided to feign an emergency and escape to Jim’s, but Spock would know, and he was far too invested in meeting Spock’s mother to let a little thing like a trip to another realm bother him. Spock knocked just as Leo was beginning to panic that he had forgotten to polish his shoes, and he grabbed his honeycakes and practically ran to get gone before his nerve failed him. 

While they walked he asked Spock a barrage of questions about what to do and not to do, traps he should avoid falling into, and social faux pau he should be warry of. Spock answered each one indulgently as they made there was through the trees following no path Leo could determine. Distracted as he was he did not notice Spock stop walking until he walked into his outstretched arm. 

“You are right to concern yourself with your safety in this place. While we walk, hold tight to my hand and do not let go. When we reach my parents’ house you may let go while we remain inside. Do not leave the house unaccompanied. You have come here willingly with full understanding of your actions and you may leave at any time you choose, regardless of what you touch or eat, so long as I lead you back to your own realm. It is easy for newcomers to lose themselves here. I wish you to return home as you left it.”

Leo shivered, the real fear he had been suppressing rising to crush his lungs and constrict his throat. He reached for Spock’s hand and grasped it tightly. Spock returned the pressure of his grip and he allowed it to ground him and bring him comfort. Slowly, as they continued walking, Leo felt the air warm and the sunlight change in quality. The trees grew strange to him and the underbrush too brightly colored. Unlikely fruits grew from unlikelier bushes, and he could hear birdcall overhead. It was beautiful and strange, and when he looked down, the dirt beneath their feet was fine and golden in color. He brought his other hand up to grip Spock’s elbow and kept close to his side. The trees thinned and, in the distance, Leo could see smoke or something resembling it rising through the air.

“We are close.” Spock said.

Indeed, a minute later Leo began to see what was perhaps a house, through the trees. Spock still followed some path unclear to Leo, so their arrival in the very small clearing by the house was sudden and unexpected. The house was constructed simply out of a red rock, cleanly cut and joined with no clear seams. The roof appeared to be of the same fine golden-brown dirt packed and dried. For all it was simple it was large and felt to Leo out of place among the trees. As they approached the door it opened and a woman wrapped in brightly colored cloth stood in the interior.

“Oh Spock! And you must be the Doctor, come in please.” She said, stepping back and opening the door wider to allow them entrance. Leo clung to Spock’s hand still, even as the door closed, waiting to be told it was safe for him to let go. 

“Mother,” Spock said, “this is my friend, the Doctor. Doctor, my mother.” Gently, Spock released Leo’s fingers and allowed his mother to embrace him.

Leo stuttered, “It’s lovely to meet you ma’am.”

She turned to him, a smile wide on her face, “It is wonderful to meet you Doctor, Spock’s told me so much about you. Please come sit with us, I’ve tea if you drink it.” She clasped his hands in greeting. He blushed.

“I’m afraid the information’s been a little one sided.” He managed to reply and allowed her to lead him to the table, which was indeed set for tea. He thought her to be human initially, as her appearance suggested it and Spock had mentioned it, however she persisted in some fashion as fae in his mind. It was her agelessness. She did not appear to be a young girl, nor a woman of their age, but neither did she appear as his mother did, getting on in years with wrinkles on her face, she simply existed, seemingly out of time’s grasp entirely. 

He brought out the honeycakes he’d kept in his pocket. 

“Thank you, for inviting me into your home.” He said as he handed them to her. 

“That’s thoughtful of you! They’ll be perfect, won’t they? We’ll have them now, Spock, get us a plate.” She smiled at him once more and pulled out his chair, sitting to his left herself. Spock took his place at Leo’s right. She told him about Spock as a baby, some pet he’d had, like a living child’s plush toy, to hear her tell it. Spock nearly pouted and said it was far more like a bear with fangs. Spock showed him their garden, holding his hand while they were out of the house, and his mother let them help make dinner. 

Spock’s father arrived home, carrying a bundle of cloth, and was immediately drawn into a conversation, or argument, if Leo read him right, about his travel’s that day. He was just as solemn and expressionless as Spock, and with just as strange fae features. 

The sky grew pink, and Spock took Leo’s hand and lead him to the door. Spock’s father did the same gesture, hand up, fingers spread, so Leo mimicked it in goodbye. 

“I hope you come back, Doctor, and when you do, you can call me Amanda.” She said as she pulled back from hugging him. 

Spock’s hand tightened on his and he panicked for a moment, unwilling to tell her his name in front of Spock and Spock’s father, especially in such a strange world. But she didn’t seem to expect a reply, only stepped back and touched her hand to her husband’s, waving with the other.

They walked back in silence as the world darkened around them, and Leo couldn’t tell when or if they returned to his own realm so he didn’t let go of Spock all through the forest. As they approached the end of the trees fear gripped him once more, as he wondered if Spock would accompany him home, or if he would turn back, for surely at this hour it would grow dark before he reached home. He did not want Spock to leave. 

Spock walked with him all the way to his back door, and did not drop his hand. When they stopped Leo turned to him and said, “Will you be safe, walking so far back home in the dark?” 

Spock took his other hand too and squeezed them both reassuringly. 

“I have walked home many times in the dark. I will come to no harm, but your concern is noted and appreciated.” He released Leo’s hands and raised one of his own in goodbye almost casually, disappearing toward the darkening tree line. 

 

“Good morning Doctor,” Spock said as Leo stepped out into the back with the bucket, accustomed now to his being there. 

“You know, if you like, you could call me Leonard.” Leo said as they crossed onto the road together. He wasn’t sure why he said Leonard, no one called him Leonard. His family called him Lenny, a habit he could never get them to break, most of the towns people called him Doctor, or Leo, and Jim inexplicably had taken to calling him Bones. A strange nickname that stuck despite his paltry efforts to direct Jim toward anything more dignified. He could even offer McCoy, as his peers at school in the city had called him, but none seem to fit within his interactions with Spock. They rarely interacted in the company of others, the people they passed getting water notwithstanding, and Spock was so out of place in the town any of his names just seemed wrong in conjunction.

Spock was so quiet for several moments that Leo wondered if he’s said something wrong.

“Spock?” He prompted, glancing at him. Spock was staring straight ahead, face blank, not in the carefully constructed neutral way it usually was, but an honest blankness, a moment of being at a loss, instead of contriving to conceal one’s reaction. He turned to Leo then, and blinked once.

In a voice perhaps slightly choked he said, “I’m honored, Leonard,” and then nothing for the rest of their walk, only a silent head incline and raised hand in response to Leo’s goodbye. Leo couldn’t be sure if it was an improvement. 

 

The next day, however, Spock lingered.

Resigned but with some fluttering hope Leo asked, “What happens if I invite you in for breakfast?”

Spock raised a single eyebrow. 

“Nothing you do not wish, Doctor.” He said, but he held himself stiffly as he followed Leo inside. 

Leo made eggs and tea, and which they ate along side the bread and milk Leo had habitually. Leo chatted about people Spock had met in some capacity, though he avoided names. He told him Nyota’s pregnancy was going well, and that Scotty was already in a fervor, building a crib and a play pen and birthing chair. He discussed the difficulties Peter was having with the pigs on the farm, he’d put in three new fences in as many months but it seemed once they learned to dig under it was futile to expect them not to try again. Slowly Spock relaxed. Afterwards Spock helped him wash up and was gone by the time his first patient came to knock at the door.

 

Once, Spock spent the entire day assisting Leo with his chores and patients. All day, he waited for someone to make a comment on the oddity, but when they passed Jim on his way to visit Nyota he only smiled and wished them a pleasant afternoon, and Scotty and Nyota greeted them both as long-time friends. As it grew close to evening time he struggled to lay waste to his futile desire for Spock to stay. 

Spock said, “I must now return home, my parents expect me for dinner.”

Leo nodded and tried to smile casually, scolding himself for being disappointed. 

“I shall see you later then,” He said in reply, holding up his hand in Spock’s fae symbol of parting, but Spock stepped closer and held Leo’s face in his hands, and suddenly Leo’s heart was pounding and he felt he could not breathe. He was sure Spock would lean in and close the gap between their mouths, but he did not.

“You must know, I have no wish to be parted form you Leonard.” Spock whispered. Leo’s hands clutched his sides when Spock made to step back. He could not let Spock leave with his part unsaid.

“You are always welcome here, should you choose to stay.”

He stared at Spock and willed him to understand everything underlying his words. For a long moment, Spock stared back, held in place by Leo’s hands on his sides. Ever so slowly he moved closer and his hands returned to their previous position framing Leo’s face, he stopped there, eyes wide looking into Leo’s own, and lips slightly parted. Leo felt his heart beating frantically and he wondered if Spock was as nervous and unsure as he was. He closed his eyes and kissed Spock. Hesitant and chaste as it was he felt again as though he could not breathe, and when he pulled away, Spock’s eyes were soft and the corner of his mouth was turned up in the smallest of smiles. In his turn he pressed an equally chaste kiss to Leo’s lips and stepped back, this time breaking Leo’s hold.

“Another night, I will stay.” He said, and Leo watched him disappear into the late evening sunset.

 

Carol came to see him. Second pregnancy barely begun he worried she was overexerting herself again, but she maintained she felt fine and in the end, he could only advise her to drink more, whether water or milk, he knew they had enough of that on hand. 

As she left she called back, “The next time your man is in town, the two of you come to ours for dinner, Jim pines without you two.”

 

When Spock finally did come for the night, he stayed. Leo didn’t ask, afraid if he mentioned anything Spock would take it to mean he had overstayed his welcome. Spock didn’t say anything, and Leo didn’t ask why. His house changed imperceptibly. His dresser inexplicably gained a row of drawers, and the top shelf of his cabinet filled with objects. Spock became a fixture in the town as easily as if he’d been born there.

Spock left nearly each day and returned each night, and Leo did ask about that. 

“Do you expect me to give up my job now that I am here with you?” Spock asked, quiet in the dark of what Leo supposed was their bedroom now.

“No,” Leo said, “I just wondered, where do you actually go? What do you do?”

And Spock told him. He talked about the places far outside even the city, places that Leo knew on some level existed in the larger world, but would take him days and weeks to get to even on horseback. Spock visited, talked with people, with other fae. He conveyed messages, collected information, and forged paths where there were none before. He spoke only of Leo’s world, nothing of his own, or any others. 

“Do you visit your mother? Your home?” Leo interrupted yet another monologue about the great cliffs Spock had seen yesterday. Spock was quiet. His arms were wrapped around Leo from behind, and Leo covered his hands with his own where the were pressed to his chest. 

“You don’t then,” Leo said when the silence had gone to long.

“My father was angry when I left,” said Spock, “we fought. I believe a part of him thought I would stay forever with them at our home. My brother is lost, we have not heard from him in many years, even in fae time, my sister visits rarely. She prefers to stay with her family in your world. I am closest, and yet I do not wish to return and fight with my father again.”

“Oh Spock,” Leo muttered, and tried to turn, but Spock’s arms tightened and he stayed in place.

Spock continued, “My mother despairs for both of us, for allowing our anger to come between us. In time, she will wish to see me, but she will stay with my father, and I have no wish to encounter him while visiting her.”

This time when Leo tried to turn Spock let him, and though he could think of nothing to say, he gathered Spock close and stroked his hair. When Leo thought he must have fallen asleep Spock spoke again.

“I love my mother. I have never told her, and now I shun her in punishment to my father.” 

Leo took a deep breath, and still with nothing to say, let it out again. 

After a moment’s thought, he said, “I would like to see your mother again. Perhaps you will take me, and if we do see your father, he will know to be angry with me instead.”

Spock did not answer, and Leo did not know if he simply had no response, or objected somehow to the suggestion, but days later the idea would not leave Leo’s mind. 

 

During the day while Spock was gone, he asked for advice. Jim held the new baby Edith in a cloth sling across his chest as he worked the butter churn. Nyota sat next to him, working her own churn, her daughter next to her on the floor, laughing as Leo repeatedly picked up the cloth ball she repeatedly threw. 

“Are you sure you want his father to be angry with you?” Nyota asked with some amusement in her voice. “I should hardly welcome the wrath of my in-laws,”

“What are you talking about?” Jim turned to her immediately before Leo could answer, “Scotty’s parents are the nicest people I’ve ever met. If anyone should be afraid of their in-laws, it’s me.”

Leo laughed with them but responded seriously to the question. 

“I don’t live with them, I don’t have to see them at all if I don’t want to. I’m hardly worried if someone three towns over holds a grudge. But he doesn’t even visit right now, it’s not right.” He said. 

He didn’t want them to hear how much the worry bled into his voice, or the guilt that would wash over him when Spock left for the day. He could see the pity in Jim’s eyes and he figured he wasn’t as successful as he might have hoped. 

“Don’t push him into anything he’s not ready for, Bones,” Jim said, and it seemed like he might go on, but Edith began to wail. Jim released the butter churn and began an exhausted soothing routine. Carol emerged from the bedroom looking as exhausted as Jim did but Edith did not want to eat. 

“Has she been doing this often?” Leo asked, watching the way Edith’s fists clenched.

“Just this past week,” said Jim.

“Have you talked to Christine?” Leo asked, frowning at Edith, still wailing in Jim’s arms. He deferred to the midwife in most matters of pregnancy and infants, but she was knowledgeable in nearly as many medical fields as he had studied in the city. 

“No,” Carol said, appearing confused, “we thought she’s just fussy. Does she seem sick?”

“No no, I’d say it’s just colic,” Leo hurried to reassure them as they watched him anxiously. 

“We had some months of that,” Nyota offered, “Christine taught us how to do a massage, it helped sometimes.”

“I’ll ask her to check in with you on my way home if you like,” Leo said, nodding in response to Nyota. On the floor, Nyota’s daughter began to fuss in time with Edith, and Leo was conscripted to child care while they finished off the butter.

 

He ventured to suggest a visit to Spock’s mother several days later over breakfast.

“Perhaps later this week we could visit your mother. I’d like to take her some of Jim’s cheese,” He said. 

Spock took a bite of bread and did not look at him. 

“If you don’t want to go that’s alright, I remember the way.”

As expected, he received a dark look and Spock launched into scolding him on the dangers of walking alone in an unfamiliar realm.

“You do so every day, I don’t see why I couldn’t manage a short trip across the border.” Leo said, affecting an innocent look. Spock’s visible irritation grew.

“I suppose you will go without me if I refuse.” He said flatly. 

“I have every intention of going, I would appreciate some company but it’s not a requirement.” Leo said in confirmation, and watched, pleased but trying not to show it, as Spock’s lips pursed in the manner that meant Leo had won the argument. 

“I will accompany you.” He said shortly, and left out the back, half finished breakfast left on the table. Leo decided Jim would undoubtedly consider this to have been pushing and resolved not to mention it to him. 

 

The trip itself was uneventful as they did not come across Spock’s father. Amanda whirled about in surprised delight at their arrival and Leo found himself and Spock ushered outside to the garden to wait for several minutes while she tidied her knitting and set the kettle for tea.

When they were allowed back inside Leo gave her a full dossier on the lives of the town. 

“I do miss it sometimes,” She admitted, “but I don’t regret leaving.”

“My friend’s child, a little over a year ago now, he was swapped with a fae child for two days. Was it you who switched them back?” Leo found the courage to ask. 

She smiled at him, and glanced at Spock. 

“Well,” she said, “I could hardly leave my son’s friend’s in such a worry, and Saavik really needn’t have stayed any longer.” She told him then about her friends in the market in town every week, and the closest neighbor’s new baby for whom she was making socks. 

“I watch him sometimes, if you come back, earlier in the day you might get to meet him.” She said as she cleared the tea.

“Perhaps.” Spock replied, and Leo knew not to push his luck any further.

 

Leo spent four nights in the town over with Caroline’s husband while he was puking and feverish. Spock did not visit him there. Leo could do little to treat the illness itself, but he woke at all hours to keep the man cool and pour more water and plain broth down his throat. He kept little of it down the first few days, but as the illness passed he could manage more, and slowly plain bread soaked in it too. When he was certain Caroline and her brother in-law could manage both caring for her husband and children and managing the post in his absence, he packed his bags and went home.

With tears in her eyes Caroline hugged him as he left. 

“Send our love to Mama and the family,” She said, “and tell Abbey if she doesn’t get a leg up on that wedding it’ll never happen, she’ll end up stuck on the farm looking after Mama and Peter. Don’t let Delilah forget to send that recipe either!” She called after him down the road. 

He arrived back after dark, bone tired. Spock sat in the kitchen with a candle, writing, as he often did, on strange parchment he said he got at the fae market. Leo had tried to read it once, put all his effort learning how to good use, but Spock wrote in a different language, one he had tried to teach Leo many times.

Leo wanted nothing more than to lay into bed and sleep until midday but Spock was restless and heated him water to wash. He pulled at Leo’s clothes and set them aside, wrapping him temporarily in one of their large blankets, a gift from Amanda, while they waited for the kettle to boil, and when it did Leo hadn’t the energy to stop Spock from helping with the washing. 

When Spock pushed him to the bed without dressing and pulled his own clothes off Leo put off sleep another while. Afterwards, laying half on Spock’s chest he tangled their fingers together.

“You missed me,” he said, smiling into Spock’s shoulder. Spock reached to pull the blankets higher.

“Indeed.” 

 

Carol knocked on the front door while Leo was examining Scotty. Scotty opened the door for her despite his lack of shirt and Leo’s insistence that he not use the arm on the side of his likely broken ribs. 

“I’m very sorry Doctor, Scotty,” she said, “I was hoping one of you might have seen David.”

But they hadn’t. Leo hadn’t, Scotty, hadn’t, Nyota hadn’t, Leo’s mother hadn’t, Hikaru hadn’t, Christine hadn’t, the new boy, Pavel, hadn’t, though he was still learning all the faces, and by that point the search grew exponentially. 

“I only sent him to give Geoffrey his milk!” Carol said, but David was not in the village. 

“Well I’m sure he’ll be alright, he’s not much younger than Bones and I were when we started wandering off on our own,” Jim said to Nyota, who hardly needed his reassurances. Leo suspected they were more for Jim himself. 

“Bones, has Spock seen him?” Jim asked eventually, as noon passed with no sign, but Spock had left early that morning, hours before Carol had asked after David. The search was branching out, people wandering through the fields to the larger farms on the outskirts, others hiking up and down the road, a couple even venturing towards the woods. Leo followed them. He stood at the place behind his house, the tree that marked the not-path that Spock always followed.

Nervous and unsure, he called, “Spock? I could use your help, if you’re nearby.” He waited. 

It was quiet in the woods by his house. Most of the town would search closer to Jim’s house, it wasn’t likely that David had gone far. Leo couldn’t help but think of all the times he and Jim found themselves lost in the strange warm place, father from home than they’d ever intended to be. A thought struck him then, in David’s exchange, would someone have learned his name? He’d been young then, but not too young. Could someone have called David? As Leo tried to call Spock? He grew more anxious and began to pace between the trees.

In his distraction he did not hear the voices until they seemed quite close. He peered about in the shade and caught a glimpse of bright fabric. A moment later Amanda appeared, leading two small children by the hand. 

“Leonard!” She said in obvious surprise when she caught sight of him, and at her exclamation David tore himself free from her clasped hand and barreled towards him.

“Uncle LEO!” He screeched in delight and clasped tight against one of Leo’s legs. 

Relief made Leo’s hands shaky as he bent to give David a hug.

“Where have you been? The whole town’s been looking for you since after breakfast! Your parents are out of their mind, what were you thinking wandering off?” He said, and at David’s guilty look softened his tone. “Well, we’re glad your back.”

David still clung to him as he tried to stand, and though he was really much to large to be carried Leo picked him up anyways. Amanda smiled at him, still holding the other child’s hand. The young girl’s hair was short and curled neatly by her pointed ears. She wore robes similar to Amanda’s in a beautiful rich red.

“I’m afraid Saavik called David for a visit.” Amanda said by way of explanation as they made their way back into town. Leo made David walk on his own.

“I was worried about that.” Leo admitted. 

 

Saavik chimed in, “I remember this!” as they approached Jim’s house, and the figure sitting on the stoop jumped up and began to rush toward them. 

“We can call off the search party, Scotty! He’s found.” Leo called out, and Scotty arrived panting. 

“Oh thank goodness!” He said breathlessly, and David launched himself at Scotty as well. Scotty scolded David more firmly than Leo had managed and Leo took the moment to run behind the house and call to the people in the field.

“He’s brought back! Search is off!” and once he’d gotten the word to Nyota she helped him spread the message. In the initial hubbub Amanda found him again.

“We need to talk.” She said, and drew him and Saavik aside down the road. “Saavik called David, and this isn’t the first time she’s had problems.”

Leo asked, “What kind of problems?”

If a faerie child could pout, Saavik did.

“Humans think fae to be invulnerable, but they are not. Humans, in our own way are a particularly hardy and sociable species. Saavik thrives here among you and we do not have the heart to force her to stay in a realm she does not fit anymore than I would call Spock home.” Amanda replied.

“Saavik is your daughter?”

“No, not—” Amanda began, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Jim and Carol.

They spoke over each other in their gratitude and relief. Carol kept a tight hold on David’s hand even as she hugged Leo.

“—can’t believe he wandered that far—”

“—no idea what he was thinking—”

“—Scotty said you—”

“—out of our minds, I can’t begin to thank—”

Leo caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and when he turned Spock stood there behind him. 

“You called me.” Spock said.

“Yes, I was hoping you could look for David, but your mother found him first. I’m sorry to call you away from your work.” Leo apologized, but he stood close to Spock and touched his hand in greeting anyways.

Spock surveyed the growing crowd, neighbors arriving back to personally confirm the search was completed.

“I am not sorry to be home.” He said. 

Amanda had worked her way out from between Jim and Carol, who were beginning again the rounds of thanking and reassuring people David had made his way home safe. She appeared next to them, still with a subdue Saavik in tow.

“Hello Spock. I’m glad to see you, I would ask the two of you a favor.” 

Leo watched Spock conduct a silent exchange with Saavik by way of eyebrow raise and various stern looks.

He said, “Mother, we will be glad to assist you,” and letting go of Leo Spock picked Saavik up with the ease of familiarity, settling her at his side as though she weighed no more than a sack of cloth.

Amanda turned her gaze on Leo, “Would you open your home to another faerie foundling, Doctor?” she asked. The smile in her eyes told him she knew the answer.

With a resigned sigh mostly for effect Leo said, “I suppose one more wouldn’t hurt.” If he had been reluctant the warmth in Spock’s eyes and the poorly hidden excitement in Saavik’s face would have convinced him. 

 

Leo’s house was small, and Saavik took up residence in the living space where a small single bed was wedged between the door to the pantry and the stove. Saavik kept it burning a single piece of coal all night to heat the room, or else she brought her blankets and curled between him and Spock in the large bed.

The walls did not ring with laughter or tears, for Saavik was as solemn as Spock for all she was full to bursting with curiosity and wonder for the world around. But the house did fill, for with Saavik and Spock the walls seemed closer and the hearth burned brighter, and with David and parades of other children for a visit and Jim stopping by to chat there was no silent emptiness.

At dinner at Leo’s mother’s big house Saavik ran and argued with Leo’s nieces and nephews and when they all came in with dirt down their fronts any aunt or uncle or Spock brushed them off all the same.  
Even when Spock took Saavik with him on trips away or back home to their realm for a night the house remembered. Leo tidied Saavik’s sweaters and consolidated Spock’s papers. He made two beds and tripped over two pairs of slippers. 

Some evenings Saavik let him manage her curls, and others she tried to teach him to read the strange writing she poured over with Spock. 

When Jim’s youngest, Miriam, fell from a tree, Edith and Nyota’s daughter stayed with her while Saavik ran to fetch him. 

Spock carried one of David’s buckets each morning from the well back to their house while Jim and Carol indulgently feigned ignorance. 

 

Amanda visited often and once Spock’s father followed. He and Spock were somber, but he ate Leo’s honeycakes and sat politely while Leo and Amanda laughed and Saavik expounded upon the new kind of fish in the river across the forest. He even spoke fondly with Spock as they prepared to leave. 

Amanda pulled Leo to the side while she wrapped her scarf around her hair.

“You take good care of them.” She said. Leo couldn’t help but glance at Spock talking to his father, and Saavik piling dishes together on the table.

“I try.” He said, completely sincere. 

She nodded towards her husband, “Some part of him is still waiting for Spock to come home, but he’s made his own here, and I’m glad of it. You can never have too much family.” She drew him back closer to the door. “Next time you’ll come to ours.”

Leo watched Spock watch his father, but for once he couldn’t read either of their expressions. 

“A logical course of action.” Spock’s father said, and Leo couldn’t tell which conversation the statement followed, but both seemed to be concluded. They said their farewells inside to spare themselves time in the biting wind, the strange fae hand gesture came easily to Leo now.

When they had gone Leo built up the fire and Spock brought out his instrument. Saavik left the dishes half done and curled up by the hearth with a blanket, and Leo joined her after he warmed them all the last of the cider. She finished it quickly and dozed against him, and when it grew late enough for Spock to stop his music the fire had burned down.

Spock tucked Saavik into bed and Leo moved the embers to the stove to burn slowly with the remaining ones from dinner, ready and waiting for the kindling to be brought in in the morning. The small bedroom was cold, separate from the warmth of the hearth and the stove, and Leo shivered as he pulled on his flannel pajamas. Under the heavy blankets in the dark he found himself pulled into Spock’s arms and he relished the shared body heat only to yelp and grumble as Spock’s cold feet found their way between his calves.  
Spock’s unapologetic, “You’re warm,” was as familiar and habitual as his embrace that Leo slipped into sleep before he could muster his habitual reply, “You’ve got ice water instead of blood,” 

 

In the morning Saavik would squirm her way in-between them and Spock would rise first to head to the well. The cold air from Saavik’s entrance and Spock’s departure would rouse Leo and he would grumble about the cold all through starting the fire. 

After breakfast Spock would leave for a trip or he would stay and help with the chores. Saavik would accompany him or run with the other children, as likely to lend a hand to a neighbor as to come home with a frog or a rabbit or a squirrel tucked under their jackets.

Leo would visit his patients, and inevitably someone would come running to his practice with a cough or a sprained wrist or news of an injury. If the weather was nice that day people would meet in the square with lunch, and Jim would tell him about the new barn or Nyota would have a new song to sing. 

In the evening Spock would return, or would already be starting dinner at home, and Saavik would come in alone or with friends in tow, polite but incessant with her tales of the days adventures. She would fall asleep, on the hearth or under her blankets in bed while Spock played his music. Leo would set the stove for the morning and he would fall asleep muttering to Spock about the ice in his veins.


End file.
